Caring and Sharing
by purplelogicwriter
Summary: Prompt: I want to see the Raydors each take care of Rusty through sickness, injury, or just a plain old bad day. Each person in the family will have his or her own chapter, starting with Ricky.
1. Chapter 1

**A/n: This was written for Grasspaw. They wanted to see the Raydors each take care of Rusty through sickness, injury, or just a plain old bad day. Each person will have his or her own chapter.**

**This first one doesn't really fall into any of those categories, but for some reason this is how I saw Ricky and Rusty. **

Walking down the street was something he didn't really do in Los Angeles, but the streets in Palo Alto were so much different. They were brighter somehow, and it was colder but not too cold just cool. Ricky had been dragging him all over the city showing him one _great_ place after another. He would never tell Ricky, but it had been sort of…fun. Plus, Ricky was a good guy, how could he not be, Sharon did raise him. Ricky's words stopped him from thinking, "You up for just one more stop?"

"Yeah, sounds good." He checked the time on his phone, while wondering what Ricky had in store for them this time.

"Don't worry we will be home before mom gets dinner done." He just smiled his acknowledgement, and Ricky took off leaving Rusty to catch up.

A couple of blocks later, Ricky led him into a store that on the inside looked a little too swanky for the building that held it. He looked around and wondered why in the world they were there. The place had old books, a few records on one wall, and there was a section in the back that he couldn't really see. When he finally focused back on Ricky he was just smiling a weird little smirk. Rusty didn't really know what that look was supposed to mean; sometimes he really didn't understand Ricky.

"What are we doing here?" he asked Ricky.

"I found something a few weeks ago that I thought you might like," Rusty knew that he was giving Ricky a skeptical look, "Don't look at me like that. You're gonna love it, trust me."

"If you say so," he said while trying to force a smile onto his face.

Ricky led him to the back of the store, stopping to say hi to the clerk first. The exchange made him wonder if there was something going on between them, but he just shrugged to himself, it wasn't really any of his business. Finally at the back of the store, Ricky walked over to a shelf and said, "Which one do you like?" He was pointing at some leather bound somethings, and Rusty moved closer to look. It looked like there were fancy notebooks or something. The books were very nice, and when he picked it up he could tell they were well made. The covers all had different patterns, but one caught his attention. It was simple, neat, and clean. There was just a simple engraving of a pen. He suddenly became very self-aware of the fact that he had been running his hand over it for a couple of minutes and there was a smile on his face. He didn't want to look at Ricky because he felt ridiculous getting so excited over a notebook.

Ricky finally spoke, "I knew that was the one, but I wanted to be sure."

Rusty didn't really understand why Ricky was doing this. Since Sharon had her _discussion_ with Ricky about the adoption, things had been ok between them. Neither one of them was really sure what they were supposed to act like as "brothers" but he thought they were doing an okay job. "I uh, it's great, thanks Ricky."

"When I saw you at Christmas, the notebook you had looked a little…rough. I just thought that this one would be tough enough for my kid brother." Ricky had a big goofy smile on his face when he said the last part, and that made Rusty smile too. Then, Ricky added, "One day you might put your writing to good use and write a book or something." Ricky put his hand on Rusty's shoulder and said, "Let's go see Sarah and get out of here."

He followed Ricky blindly to the register still in shock. The notebook was one of the nicest things he had ever owned, and maybe Ricky was onto something with the book writing. He didn't think that he wanted to write a book, but he had been narrowing down majors for college and he was leaning towards maybe…journalism…maybe. Also, maybe having an older brother wasn't so bad. Having someone closer to his own age than the members of Major Crimes to talk about things he wasn't ready to bring up with Sharon yet was sort of a relief.

When Ricky was done paying and flirting with Sarah, he handed Rusty the book and said, "Let's get home before mom flips out wondering why we aren't back yet."

"Glad it's not just me she worries about like that." They both kind of half-laughed, half-smiled as they walked out of the store.

As they walked down the sidewalk towards Ricky's place, Rusty got lost in his thoughts again. He didn't know how he had gotten so lucky with Sharon and Ricky…and even Emily, but he was sure glad that he had. As much as he hated to admit it he was going to have to thank Sharon for dragging him up here. He knew there was an ulterior motive behind it, meaning that she wanted to get out of LA and away from their normal routines. She was still worried about Stroh, and the fact that Rusty was out of college for the summer with all this _free time _to wander around without her was terrifying to her. God only knew how many times they had that discussion.

Rusty had continuously checked in with her everyday anytime he made a move, but he knew she still worried. Hell, if he wanted to be honest he was terrified too, but he just tried not to think about it. He just wanted to live a normal life; the life that Sharon had shown him he deserved. But he would do what he could to make her feel better about the situation, and if that meant she used up all her vacation dragging him across the country then he would let her.

"You good?" Ricky said as he pulled out the keys to his building.

"Yeah," Rusty nodded, and tried to concentrate, the walk back had seemed shorter than he remembered, "Uh, thanks Ricky for the notebook, it's really…nice, and really thanks."

"You're welcome, now let's go see what mom _cooked_," the last word came out a little cynical, and that made Rusty laugh. Sharon cooked, but she was no master chef, but at least tonight the company would be good.

**Hope y'all enjoyed it. The next chapter is written, it's a bit longer, but I'm going to give it one more check before I post it. Sneak peak though…next stop is Sharon's parents. **


	2. Chapter 2

**So I decided there should be a chapter in this series where Rusty comforts Sharon. Guess I'm not sticking to the prompt so well, but I promise the coming chapters will. As always I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think. **

The second leg of their trip found them in Minnesota. Sharon had been grouchy on the plane, and he didn't know what that was about because he hadn't done anything to make her that way. Their time with Ricky had been really enjoyable. After the first day or two, there had been a physical difference in her attitude. Her shoulders had relaxed, the dark circles from lack of sleep had almost disappeared, and even her voice had lost the stressed out tone it had taken on in recent months. Now riding in the rental car to her parent's house she seemed…worried again…no concerned…no actually he wasn't sure. Really he wasn't sure if the _concern_ was about seeing her parents or if it was the fact that he was with her going to see her parents. He didn't want to be the reason she didn't have a good time. She was trying so hard to ensure he was enjoying himself, and he wanted her to have a good time in return. Trying to get away from the impending pressure of Stroh being free was probably impossible, but the further they got from LA the easier he could breathe.

That had been the whole point of making the trip; so that they could breathe easier. Why did Sharon always have to be right? It was definitely annoying.

She sighed rather loudly again, and he decided that it was time he figured out what was going on. "Sharon, is something wrong?" Probably not the best words, but that's all he could come up with.

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine."

"Really Sharon. Really with the _I'm fine_ routine." They used that excuse with each other too often.

She almost huffed, but then she just took a breath, "I just got some news that I didn't like earlier, and I'm having a hard time clearing it out of my head."

He didn't even know if she would answer because she had been more secretive than normal lately, but he had to ask either way. "What sort of news?"

"We are about two minutes away," she turned her head with a small smile on her face, "I promise we will talk tonight."

He was shocked, she was going to tell him, but then again if she was going to tell him then that meant- she didn't really share things, so he wondered what it meant that she was going to. It was confusing. He felt the car turn and realized they were there. Wow. The house was really, really nice. In his eyes it was a mansion, but not like basketball player mansion, but definitely the biggest house he was ever going to step foot in unless he like won the lottery. When they parked he looked at Sharon, and she was watching him with some amusement. He was going to say something, but she beat him to it, "Big huh?" She could say that again. "Too big if you ask me," she added like it was an afterthought.

All of a sudden he was nervous, and his palms were getting sweaty. He had never met Sharon's parents, she never really talked about them, but if they lived here there was no way this was going to go well. They probably thought he was just some kid off the street taking advantage of their _obviously rich_ daughter. Sure Sharon had told him on the flight that they couldn't wait to meet him, but he was now having an even harder time believing that.

Sharon was already out of the car and he was just sitting there like an idiot thinking that he didn't think this was a good idea. She should definitely visit her family, but he should like go stay in a motel or something. She opened his door, "Rusty," suddenly his mouth was dry and he felt paralyzed, "Rusty come on, get out."

"Sharon, I..Uh, I don't think this is a good idea."

"We talked about this. My parents already know that you are my son, and trust me they are going to love you." When he gave her a disbelieving look she added, "They won't mess with you. I promise."

Was she like a mind reader?

"Now come on, get out of the car," she demanded.

He did as he was told, and followed her inside. He practically had to pick his jaw off the ground when they got inside. The place was _really_ nice. Sharon announced their presence and then he heard hurried footsteps behind him; Sharon was already moving towards them. Her parents. There was an exchange of hugs and pleasantries that he wasn't a part of, in fact he felt like he had been forgotten. The second that thought crossed his mind Sharon turned around wrapping an arm around him. She always did that. It was like sometimes she could hear his thoughts. "This is Rusty." She looked so proud when she said it, and it made his stomach turn a little. He was suddenly feeling very small, and he unintentionally tensed up at her words. He felt her rub his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down.

Her father was the first to offer his hand, "Good to finally meet you Rusty."

He returned the handshake, "You too. I really like your house." It was all he could think of because just_ you too_ seemed somehow inadequate.

"Thank you son, and this is my wife Aileen."

Like he didn't know that.

She just smiled, and he gave her a sheepish grin before he looked back at Sharon. Introductions over, Sharon showed him where his room was and where her room was, and then she told him to get settled then to meet her downstairs. Great. He didn't know exactly how long he was supposed to take _to get settled_. He figured she wanted a minute to talk to them alone, but he didn't feel right sitting in this really nice room. He shook his head, he wasn't that kid anymore. He was Sharon's son, adopted or not. That's what she called him. Sometimes he had to remind himself of that fact.

/

They had eaten dinner, and it had all been so delicious. Sharon definitely didn't get her cooking skills from her mom. The conversation had been easy, and they hadn't asked any uncomfortable questions. He figured Sharon had made sure of it. They seemed genuinely interested in how he liked college and if he had picked a major. He figured those were things normal families talked about. His life was normal right now despite everything he had been through; despite there being a psychopath serial killer escaped from prison who was probably, one day, going to try to kill him. It was difficult to accept sometimes. After dinner, dessert, and then coffee, and then sitting in the living room listening to her parents tell old stories, he finally thought he had spent enough time with them that he could excuse himself politely. Playing the tired card he thanked them for dinner again, and then made his way upstairs.

Along the way, he had checked a couple of the other rooms. It wasn't snooping, he told himself. He was…curious. He found a library, a sewing room, and some bedrooms before he felt guilty and headed to _his_ room. Sharon's was right across the hall, and he wondered if that's the reason that she had put him in this room, or if this was just the normal situation. Either way he found it comforting somehow. He was lying there waiting to hear her go to her room. His plan was to catch her in the hallway or something because he wanted to talk, and not just about the news she got earlier. He felt like he needed to tell her…well he wasn't sure exactly, but…that the trip had been a good idea. He was getting to know her better, even if it was because her family felt the need to tell stories she insisted they shouldn't.

Finally he heard her voice coming up the stairs, and he jumped out of bed. He was about to open the door when he realized she was still talking. She was on the phone. He wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but before he could move away from the door he heard her say, "Lieutenant I can't right now," there was a long pause and she added, "I need to be here," there was another long pause. "This isn't just for him. It's for me too… it was getting to be too much."

Wait. What was getting to be too much? Panic started to set in. What if she was like having regrets or something? She couldn't like unadopt him…could she?

Her voice drifted away and got quieter, she had moved past his room down the hall a little ways, but he could still hear. "Thank you for keeping me updated Lieutenant, have a good night." She had definitely been talking to Lieutenant Provenza; if it had been Andy her voice would've been softer.

He heard her clear her throat in the hall and realized he was still leaning against the door. He ran back to the bed and pulled out his phone just as she knocked on the door. He got back up at a reasonable pace and opened the door trying to act casual. "Hey, I was afraid you would be asleep," she said.

"Uh, no, I wanted to talk to you." Her face was only mildly surprised. He moved toward the bed sitting on the edge. She walked in, and she was eyeing the chair in the corner when he scooted over. There had been room before he moved, but it was a gesture that he needed to make. He knew that sometimes she was scared to come to close to him, and he had caught her more than enough times with her hand in the air afraid to touch him because she probably thought he would like run in the opposite direction or something. Not all of it was his fault, but some of it anyway; enough of it to make him feel guilty at times.

She sat down, close, but not too close pulling one leg up to sit facing him. She smiled and he figured she was waiting for him to start. He had after all said that he wanted to talk to her. The thing was he hadn't really planned anything out.

"Anything in particular you wanted to talk about?" she questioned when he still hadn't spoke.

"I um, thank you for going on this trip with me. I know I protested in the beginning, but it was good to see Ricky, and now that I've met your parents I'm really glad that you-we did this."

Her face was practically glowing and she was giving him that look; the one that she always had for a brief second after she won an argument. Why did she always have to be right? "I am glad you're enjoying yourself, and you're welcome." She crossed her arms, almost hugging herself. She did that a lot too. He didn't really know what to say now because he didn't want to be the first one to bring up what she had said in the car.

He decided on their plans instead, "So, what are we doing tomorrow?"

"I think my parents want to take us a couple of places…to be honest I'm not really sure yet. I'll find out though." Sharon didn't know the plan. Wow. She was like kind of a control freak, and like always had to know things. Something must be really wrong.

They sat there for a minute. Her face had gone tight, and her eyes looked sad all of a sudden. He wished he knew what she was thinking about. "Are you ok Sharon?"

Her reaction told him that she wasn't, but he figured he was about to get the standard, _"Don't worry about me," _response but she surprised him. She uncrossed her arms letting her hands rest in her lap, "I'm just really glad you are here Rusty. Really glad." Her eyes were misty now.

He didn't know what was going on, but something had definitely happened. He wasn't even sure if she was waiting for a response but he spoke anyway, "Me too." Unexpectedly, he felt like his words had more weight to them than a simple _me too. _He felt like they weren't just talking about them making the trip.

His shoulders straightened when he realized what this was about. _Stroh._ Something had happened with Stroh, and that's why she was acting this way. Wait. Maybe he was just reading into it too much.

Sharon had definitely realized the tension he suddenly felt because she moved an inch closer carefully putting her hand on his shoulder saying his name very quietly. He forced his eyes to hers, and he knew he had been right. "Honey, relax." He tried to do as he was told, but he felt his chest tighten instead.

"It's Stroh isn't it? That's the news that you got earlier." She nodded. "W-what happened?"

"I want you to know-" he cut her off because she was going to say something like _'it wasn't his fault' _or something else he didn't want to hear right now, "Sharon, I can handle it."

"I know _you_ can," there were tears in her eyes, and her voice was full of emotion, "I'm the one," she struggled to get the words out, but she couldn't. He realized she was hurting more than he thought. She had always been strong and unwavering no matter what he, or anyone threw at her for the past three…wait…was it four years now? Had he been with her that long? She had always been fine, and she made sure that he was fine, and now she was…what? Scared? Hurt? Worried? Tired of the hurt he brought her? He just wanted it to stop; he wanted her to be ok. He needed her to be ok. He moved close to her, and put his arms around her. He wasn't really into hugging, but this was Sharon, and he would hug her as long as she needed him to.

Had he really been that self-centered to think that this trip had been all about him, and everything she had been doing was all about him? She needed this too. The complications of his life had affected hers too. She had gotten death threats because of him. She had almost gotten shot because of him. She was always worried about him, so much so that it was physically apparent.

She had told Lieutenant Provenza on the phone "it had been getting to be too much." He wondered what had? He knew she was looking for Stroh, but he didn't ask about it anymore. He just wanted to forget the man even existed. Sharon was almost trembling in his arms. He didn't know what to do; Sharon had probably never let anyone see her like this, like ever. He had only been hugging her for like a solid minute, but he could tell she was trying to pull herself together. When she pulled back, he looked away, giving her a minute. She wasn't crying though, but her eyes had tears in them.

"I'm sorry Rusty, I shouldn't-" he shook his head stopping her, "Sharon, it's ok, don't apologize please." He didn't want her to be sorry. He was somewhat honored to have been able to be there for her. "We're family," he added with a small smile.

"Yes we are." Her voice was still choked, but her face said she was proud he said that. She still hadn't let her tears spill over though.

"We don't have to talk about it tonight Sharon. It can wait." Now that he knew what it was about, and now that he had seen Sharon's reaction he wasn't sure he really wanted to know. Plus, he didn't want to see her get upset like that again tonight…or ever.

She took a deep breath, "No, you should know." Her voice was steady now, and on the verge of turning into her "Captain's" voice, "Over the past few weeks, there have been boys, similar to your description turning up dead in city parks all across the county. Dr. Morales put it together, since they were spread across different divisions. They all had…" she shook her head, and he could tell she didn't want to go on. She folded her arms again holding them more tightly than necessary; "They all had a dead rat in their pocket."

Great this psychopath was killing kids off the street that looked like him. Stroh sure did have a flare for the dramatic, a rat, really. He figured he might even know some of the kid's from the street. He shook his head. Why couldn't Stroh just run off to another country like other escaped convicts? He felt Sharon watching him, but he felt calm. He wasn't freaking out like she probably figured he would. He turned back to her, and said exactly what he hadn't wanted to say, "They look like me?"

"They do, especially the," she stopped, he figure she hadn't meant to say that last part.

Somehow he knew what she was about to say. "Especially the one from today, that's what you were going to say."

All she did was nod. He understood. He knew she had been so worried about him since the day he declined police protection. It had been a battle that she had let up on for a few months, and then like three weeks ago she started bringing it up again. Now he understood it all. "I'm with you Sharon, nothing is going to happen." But they both knew this vacation wouldn't last forever. He needed to figure out a better way to comfort her, and make her understand he would be safe and that nothing would happen.

"I know honey," and there was that look she gave him that brought a knot into his throat. She stood up off the bed, and brushed the hair off his forehead, that act alone used to annoy him, but things like that weren't so bad anymore. "I know," she repeated, "You're safe with me." She walked to the door before turning around, "Get some sleep."

She was leaving. Wait. That was it?

"I love you," he blurted out before she could fully shut the door.

She pushed it back open so she could look at him and with a small smile she said, "I love you too."

He really should tell her that more often, but he knew that she knew. He just hoped he had done enough tonight to help her, and maybe seeing Emily in a few days would help too.

* * *

**Ok, so don't kill me for bringing up Stroh, and promise he doesn't play a part in the rest of this little saga. Maybe I will spin it off into another story, but no more Stroh here. Next stop Emily's apartment. **


	3. Chapter 3

**So glad that y'all are enjoying this story, and I hope you continue to do so! This time we are in New York, and Emily and Rusty are going to spend some quality time together. There' s just one little hiccup in that plan…**

"You know you could've gone to the show with them," Rusty said.

"I could've, but it's good for mom to go out without the kids sometimes. Plus, she hasn't seen Donna in years." Emily was a nice person, and even if she was unhappy about being stuck with him she wasn't showing it. She had taken him out to dinner, and now they were just eating ice cream on the balcony. New York was a big city, and Emily's apartment had a great view. Maybe he should travel more because there were definitely exciting places other than LA.

They sat out there for a while just talking and enjoying the night air. The conversation had been interrupted by a text from Sharon. The show was great, and they were going for dinner. Dinner at 11 at night was odd, even for Sharon, but he was just thankful that she was having a good time. When they were all out shopping earlier they had run into one of Emily's old dance instructors, Donna, and apparently her and Sharon went way back. One thing had led to another, and now obviously they were out running the town.

It had taken both Emily and Rusty to convince Sharon that everything would be fine, and that no he wouldn't go and get murdered tonight, and yes they would call if they needed something, and yes they were sure they would be fine. Just thinking about the whole conversation made him want to laugh. Sharon like worried way too much.

He got up to take their bowls to the sink, and to get a drink. He asked Emily if she wanted anything. But he wasn't paying attention, and he tripped over one of the rugs, dropping the bowls in the process and landing right on top of the glass. He heard Emily yell in the background, and he felt the blood run down his arm as he tried to get up avoiding the rest of the glass.

"Rusty are you ok?" she asked carefully stepping through the mess on the floor to where he was sitting.

"I'm sorry…I tripped…I will buy you new bowls I swear."

She grabbed a towel wrapping it around his arm, "Don't worry about the bowls, are you ok?"

"I-uh I think so." He didn't think that he was injured other than his arm, but he wasn't sure either. Maybe it was just his pride that was a little wounded.

"Can you stand up?" He nodded that he could, and she helped him up moving him to the sink.

After they had cleaned it up enough to see the cut clearly, there was glass stuck in it, and it was pretty deep. "I think you need stitches," she said. He shook his head no, but she continued on, "Mom is going to kill me."

"No, she's not. It was my fault…I'm the idiot who tripped over a rug. Oh man, do you really think I need stitches? It doesn't look that bad…we can like just clean it up."

"I broke her youngest child; you're the baby, and I let you get hurt." She was suppressing a giggle, and he didn't know if she was being sarcastic or not, but being called the baby was somehow surprising. The whole sibling thing was new, but he knew what she was saying. "Alright, let me grab my stuff. Keep that wrapped up; I do not need blood in my car." She gave him that pointed look that she must have inherited from her mother.

He did as he was told, and pulled the towel tighter. Sharon was going to be…well he didn't know what she would be, but he wasn't looking forward to telling her. The bloodstain was growing on the towel. He thought that pressure was supposed to stop the bleeding. Why wasn't it working?

He walked to the door where Emily was waiting, and he was beginning to feel a little lightheaded. "You look white as a ghost. Don't pass out on me either." That wasn't his plan, obviously. "Maybe you should call mom on the way to the hospital," she added.

As Emily drove, he pulled out his phone to call Sharon. It was blurry, he shook his head to see if that made it better, but it didn't. The towel was completely soaked now. "How much further?"

"A couple of blocks, are you ok?"

/

He woke up to the movement of being rolled into the hospital on a stretcher. Emily was right beside him, and she was holding his hand. He squeezed it, and she basically yelled at him, "Oh thank God! Never pass out on me again! Ever!"

He let out a small laugh, and she smiled. They wheeled him into a room, and hooked up some stuff, and then a doctor started pulling the towel off his arm, which hurt a lot. The doctor asked him some questions about how it happened and what not, but she didn't make fun of him. She just said, "I've heard of crazier things." She also told him that he definitely needed stitches. She left the room telling him she would send a nurse in to clean out the glass, and she would be back.

Someone came in talking about paperwork, and Emily told them to wait for their mom since neither one of them knew anything about the insurance. This was the exact kind of situation Sharon had been telling him about when she wanted to adopt him. It was things like this he had never thought about before Sharon. Again, with the always being right. _Geez._

Emily stayed by his side the whole time they stitched him up, constantly asking if he was in pain, or did he need anything. She was rapidly turning into a mini-version of Sharon with all the worrying.

It wasn't long before he heard the familiar click of Sharon's heels in the hallway. She came rushing into the room right up to the side of his bed. He and Emily both started talking at the same time, but his voice won out, "I'm okay really Sharon, and I'm sorry I like ruined your night and you had to come here. I'm sorry."

* * *

When Emily had called her, she instantly knew something was wrong because they had both been so insistent that she go out and have a good time. Then, when she heard her daughter's voice in panic mode her heart had skipped a beat.

"_Mom, he fell and there was a lot of blood, but he was fine. Then we were almost to the hospital and he passed out. We just got here, and they have him on a stretcher."_

"_Em, slow down. What hospital?"_

"_Bellevue." _

"_I'm on my way, stay with him." _

The words blood, passed out, and stretcher kept ringing in her head; she didn't like any of those words, especially in relation to one of her children. Emily was too panicked to give her the details so she hadn't pushed her, but they were at the hospital so he was in good hands. Or he better be or the doctors might find themselves on the other side of her gun.

Now walking into the emergency room, and then seeing him lying in that bed her chest felt tight. She came into the room, and immediately felt the need to touch him, just to make sure he really was ok. She hadn't been able to say a word, but she put her hand on his head running her hand through his hair while both he and Emily tried explaining at the same time.

Finally, Rusty said, "I'm okay really Sharon, and I'm sorry I like ruined your night and you had to come here."

Ruin her night? Was he serious? He was worried about her night when he was lying in a hospital bed. She seriously didn't know what to say.

"Mom, he's okay. Say something please."

"I…" words were eluding her for the first time in a long time. She was just glad he was ok, and that her daughter was good in a crisis. "You did good Emily, but can-" She was interrupted by someone knocking on the door. The woman explained about the paperwork, and so with a pat to his shoulder she excused herself. She was thankful for another minute to wrap her head around the fact that he was going to be fine, and to form real words and sentences again. She had to tell herself several times that he was fine.

* * *

Emily was sitting in the chair looking from him to Sharon, who was in the hallway, and back to him. It was as if she didn't know what to do all of a sudden.

He had to say something, "This isn't your fault, and she's not upset about the stitches and all that." Were tears really forming in his eyes? He blinked rapidly trying to get the rest of his explanation out quickly before Sharon came back. "It has nothing to do with this. It's…"

Wait. Had Sharon told Emily about all the Stroh stuff? He didn't want to worry her if Sharon had intentionally kept it from her. He decided to go with what he knew she knew. "It's just all the stuff from before, and how worried she was about…" He couldn't say it. He couldn't say about me being almost killed by a psychopath.

Emily knew though, and she grabbed his hand giving him a tight smile. "I know how worried she was when you were almost…" she paused too, and he figured neither one of them could say it. She picked right back up though, "And I know how she is. She's a worrier. She is always going to jump to the worst case scenario."

At least they could both agree on that.

* * *

From the nurse's station she could see her children, and she was amazed that Emily was trying so hard to comfort Rusty. Emily hadn't verbally protested the adoption, but she had raised questions, rightfully so, but now looking at them…you would never know it. She hurried to finish the paperwork, and she handed over the insurance card. Before she went back into the room, she informed a nurse she wanted to speak with the doctor before he was discharged.

She didn't know the specifics, but she knew he had gotten stitches and she wanted to know the details. Details would put her mind at ease.

As she walked back to the room she caught Emily's eye, and made a subtle motion for Emily to join her in the hall. After a minute of reassuring her daughter that she did everything right, and that she wasn't angry with her, she sent Emily off to find a drink. She wanted a second alone with Rusty.

Emily went back to Rusty's bedside, and Sharon heard her say, "You want anything? I'm going to find a soda." Rusty just shook his head no.

She had to admit, she was proud of Emily for stepping up all around tonight. First, Emily had volunteered to hang out with Rusty so that she could go out with Donna, and then she hadn't left Rusty's side apparently since the whole ordeal began. As Emily walked by Sharon brushed her shoulder with a hand. She would talk to her in more depth, later, when they were back at the apartment.

Right now though, she needed to talk to Rusty. She took Emily's chair and scooted closer to the bed. She put her hands on his uninjured arm, "Are you in pain?"

"No they numbed it with a shot, but when that wears off they said it would probably hurt." She nodded her agreement. "But I'm good Sharon, really I am."

"I know that honey, things happen. When Emily called though you were unconscious." She hadn't intended to stop, but her throat was clenched and if she said one more word she might've wanted to cry. He had already witnessed that the other day, and he didn't need her burdens on top of his. She had been angry with herself that night for allowing it to happen at all, but he was right _they are family_. Maybe her opening up a little would cause a reciprocating action.

"It just wouldn't stop bleeding, and I was trying to call you. Then, I woke up while they were rolling me here. It was just a few minutes."

He was trying to reassure her…again. She wanted to turn the conversation around, but the doctor came into the room with Emily in tow. Obviously their talk would have to wait too.

* * *

He looked at the clock, and was shocked to discover that it was almost 3AM. Emily was blowing up the air mattress for him, and Sharon was in the shower. She had made up a lame excuse about the streets of Manhattan and just feeling like she needed a shower, but he figured she just wanted to be alone. The apartment was nice, but a little small; there was only one bedroom, and not a lot of privacy.

Emily was being overly helpful by blowing up the mattress, bringing him water, making sure he took some pain relievers, and she even covered him up when he crawled on top of the bed. He laughed to himself, wondering how long she would feel guilty. After that she slipped off to her bedroom telling him goodnight.

He was trying to stay awake to talk to Sharon, but he was just so tired. Eventually sleep won out, but he thought at some point he felt her hand stroking his hair. He couldn't seem to open his eyes though.

* * *

**So I think just one more chapter in this story…unless as someone suggested you guys want to see Jack. I'm having trouble finding any sympathy for Jack given past events, but if y'all want to see it… ask and you shall receive. Thanks again for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/n: This is the final installment of this series. Due to popular demand there will be no Jack *****secret sigh of relief***** I have really enjoyed writing this, and I hope that it met the expectations of the prompt (thank you Grasspaw for the prompt). As always thank you for the reviews, I try to respond to them all, but sometimes I fall a bit short. So thank you! **

They had returned to LA day before yesterday, and being home was wonderful. They had been gone for almost two straight weeks, and it was great and all, but there was just something about being in his bed that was satisfying. It was warm and comforting and perfect. Tomorrow, it would be back to their old routines. Sharon would go to work, and he would sit at home bored out of his mind until he decided what he wanted to do that day. Summer was almost over, and he would be going back to college in a few weeks. He was not looking forward to that, but at least he would have something to do. Sharon hadn't made him get a summer job, and really he hadn't wanted one. She told him that he should enjoy his free time, but then she had been worrying every second of every day that he wasn't in her sights. She tried not to show it, but he knew.

Then, they took the trip, which he had been glad they did, but now they were back, and there was an impending doom that came with it. Stroh was still on the run, and he was killing boys who looked like him. One day Stroh might even kill him. Rusty didn't like to think about it, but even though no one had said it out loud it didn't make it any less true. Just the thought sent a shiver up his spine.

He was thinking that he would go see his mother tomorrow. He hadn't been to see her in over a month, and he was beginning to feel guilty. She would be getting out soon. It had almost been a year…he really couldn't believe it. Then, the terrible thought hit him, not for the first time, that when she got out, he wouldn't know where she was again. Would she run away and leave him again, or would she stick around and continue to blame him for everything?

He shook his head, not wanting to think about her or Stroh anymore. He needed to go to sleep because he wanted to get up and make Sharon breakfast in the morning, for her first day back, before she had to face all of the horrible murders again.

* * *

Rusty had made her breakfast this morning, and casually brought up the fact that he was going to see his _other _mother. He was doing that more and more now, referring to her as such. She had done her best to be casual. That's all she could ever really be about the whole situation with his mother. Casual and supportive, unless he was asking her a question, but even then it was a difficult to know when to give him her true input or when to just give general advice.

Sharon looked at the clock 2 pm; he was at the jail right now. Ms. Beck was going to be released in a little over a month, and she still didn't know how that was going to go. Personally, she wanted to run Sharon Beck out of town, but she didn't think that would honestly help the situation.

All she could do was be there for him…if he would let her. She thought they were in a good place, and the trip seemed to do wonders for him. It was great for her too. She had seen her other children and her parents. Everyone was doing well, and she wondered how long that would last.

If only she could catch Stroh, and then things really would be good for everyone. She worried about Rusty doing predictable things; like going to see his mother. Those were the things Stroh would know about, and those were the places he would most likely be lying in wait. If only Rusty would just let her put a security detail on him. It would maybe, maybe lessen some of her anxiety.

* * *

He realized that it was almost dark, and he wondered how long he had been sitting on the beach. He hadn't been to the beach in a while, and he had needed to think. Before Sharon, and before Stroh, he used to come to the beach and run or swim or anything just to get out of his own head. The need to escape the horrible things he was doing everyday to eat and survive was overwhelming sometimes, and he had just need to go somewhere. The beach was usually that place. Today though, he didn't run, and he didn't swim, he just sat staring out at the ocean.

The visit with his mother had been ok, nothing horrible had happened, but nothing great had happened either. He had asked his mother what her plan was when she got out, and given her answer he wasn't optimistic. He wondered…no he hoped that this would be the time that she stayed clean, and that she would get a job, and then they could visit each other. Maybe have some sort of normal relationship, but he knew better than to _believe_ it would ever happen. He just couldn't make himself not wish and hope for it though.

He looked at his phone to check the time. Sharon had called a while ago. It was getting late, and he knew Sharon would be worried if she made it home before him, but he wasn't ready to face her yet. He wasn't ready for her to see him, and know that things still weren't good with his mother. He would try to hide it, but she would know. Sharon knew him better than anyone in the world, and he knew her. They could communicate with just a look, and he didn't know when that had started. He also didn't know when he had finally let her _all_ the way in, but he was glad that he had. He needed her, and she would always be there; unlike his mother, who would probably disappear from his life in a month…again.

Something caught his eye, and he turned to look more closely. It was almost completely dark now, but he could see that it was a woman walking down the beach from the parking lot. He wondered why anyone would be coming to the beach this late, but as the woman got a little closer he recognized her gait, and she was carrying high heels in one hand, and a blanket in the other. It was Sharon. What the hell was she doing here?

He stayed where he was, just watching her get closer. She was smiling at him, but it was the sad sort of smile she wore more and more recently. He hated what he was doing to her. She was still dressed in her work clothes, and he almost laughed thinking about her apologizing to the dry cleaners about the sand. She sat down right next to him, their shoulders touching, and she wrapped the blanket around both their shoulders. He hadn't realized that he was getting cold until he felt her warmth next to him. She didn't say anything, but she was looking at him, trying to study his face in the darkness.

His chest was tight, and his throat dry. He didn't know what to say with her looking at him like that. Finally, she turned and looked out at the ocean and the waves, and he found it easier to speak with her not looking at him, "What are you doing here Sharon?"

"I was worried about you." Her voice was low, and full of emotion.

"Oh." That's all he trusted himself to say. Then, another thought came to him, "How did you even know where I would be?"

She giggled, "Well, it turns out that I did remember how to use that app you put on our phones. I went home, but you weren't there, and I called, but you didn't answer. I decided to try to remember."

He laughed more to himself than her, but she smiled back at him anyway. He had downloaded an app that he could look at to know where she was. It used to freak him out when he would wake up, and she would already be gone. Yes, she had always woken him up to say she was leaving, but sometimes it was hard to remember where she was going. So he had decided it was best to have a back up plan. He had shown her once how to use it, but he didn't think she would ever remember. Now, he wondered, how often she really did check it with the Stroh thing going on. He wouldn't delete it though because maybe it was giving her some peace of mind, like it had given him.

"My phone must have still been on silent. Sorry." He had put it on silent at the jail, and never thought about it after he left. His mind had been somewhere else.

"It's alright," she said softly.

He watched her face in the moonlight, and she looked calm enough that he believed her. Her gaze was back out on the ocean, and he turned to watch the waves come crashing in. "Sharon?"

"Yes?"

"I don't know if I want to talk about today, but I have a question."

She shifted ever so slightly to face him more, "What is it honey?"

"When _she_ gets out, I think she like expects me to pick her up." Sharon's eyes were sad, and he was having trouble getting his words right. "I don't want to be alone with her like that – in the car I mean, but I want to be able to, like say good bye, in case I never see her again." With those words Sharon's hands found his. "I know it would be like weird for you or whatever, but I need –" he shook his head, he didn't want to need it, but really that was the best word for it, "I want you to come with me. Like if you can or if you even want to or—"

She stopped him from talking with a squeeze of the hand and a little nod. "Rusty, whatever I can do to make this easier on you I will. I would be happy to be there for you."

He held her gaze for a moment. He wanted to be sure that she was sure. She never wavered. She was sure. He felt better; it was like a small weight had been lifted. If Sharon went with him, there was less of a chance his mother would be horrible to him, and it would prove to her that he had finally found the family he deserved; the family that she couldn't give him. She would always be his mother, but Sharon was his _mom_ now. It was something he had struggled with, but now it felt good to know…and sometimes say.

"Sharon, thank you, seriously." He turned to better face her, and he reached out for her. She hugged him tight, and after a minute he whispered, "I love you." She pulled back moving her hands to his face, looking right at him, and even in the moonlight he could see her expression, "I love you too. No matter what." He couldn't do anything but smile back at her.

/

After the beach, they had come home, and she was making him dinner. He had tried to help, but she had insisted that she do it tonight. He was perched on a barstool watching her, and listening to her talk about how Ricky's cat had gone missing, but come to find out, it was hiding in a basket in the closet. Ricky had apparently freaked out, and like put up missing posters and everything. It was a dumb story, but it made him laugh. What was even better was that Sharon was laughing and giggling through the whole thing. She was trying to cheer him up, it was working, but at the same time, he thought it was making her happier too.

They were going to be ok. As long as he had Sharon, it would all be ok.

* * *

**I've got a few ideas for my next story, and one good prompt that was given to me, so be on the look out for that. You can always send me a message on here or find me on Tumblr. Have a great day/night/week!**


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